


You Aren’t All There (and I’m Worried About You)

by TheJediAssassinGirl



Series: Dil and Frecks Take on New York [2]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Based on Newsies Live blah blah blah, F/F, Freckles is loopy as shit, M/M, This is a long one, Unintentional drug use?, i guess?, it always is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 17:10:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJediAssassinGirl/pseuds/TheJediAssassinGirl
Summary: When Freckles gets drugged by the DeLanceys, she gets very loopy on the couch of the common room. Hilarity ensues.





	You Aren’t All There (and I’m Worried About You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BenTylerShook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenTylerShook/gifts).



Armadillo followed her girlfriend, Freckles, as the latter limped through the streets of Manhattan, enduring the volley of taunts coming from Freckles. 

“Hey, didja see that?” Freckles asked suddenly. 

“Freckles, I love ya, but if you take another dig at how slow I’m goin’, I’m goin’ back ta Brooklyn,” Armadillo sighed. 

“No, seriously, Brooklyn,” Freckles said. “I saw somethin’. Looked like a DeLancey.” and then she fell. Freckles hit the pavement with a thud and a groan. Armadillo rushed over and helped her up, being mindful of the bandages covering the stab wound on Freckles’s stomach. “Is the back a my neck bleedin’?” Freckles asked. 

“No,” Armadillo said without looking. She needed to get Freckles back to the lodging house fast. “You’s fine. Let’s go.”

“Armadillo,” Freckles said sharply. “Look at my neck. I swear ta  _ god  _ it’s bleedin’.” Armadillo looked. Sure enough, there was a single little puncture wound with a small stream of blood trickling out.

“Shit,” Armadillo said. “C’mon, let’s get ya back ta lodging, quick!” With Armadillo’s help, Freckles was able to quickly move back to the lodging house. She was able to get situated on the couch as Armadillo yelled for Specs.

“I feel woozy,” Freckles complained. “Were they tryin’ ta drug me?”

“God, I hope not,” Armadillo replied. Specs came into the common area, and Armadillo breathed a sigh of relief. “Here’s Specs,” She said. Freckles grinned up at her, eyes unfocused.

“Thanks, aardvark,” She said.

“Aardvark?” Armadillo repeated, confused. Freckles’s brow furrowed. 

“Shit, that ain’t it,” she said. Then she giggled. “You’s squishy,” She said.

“Are you alright?” Armadillo asked, concerned.

“M’fine,” Freckles said. “Fan- _ tastic _ .”

“You  _ never  _ say that,” Armadillo said.

“Your face is so  _ round _ ,” Freckles said, amazed. “C’mere an’ lemme squish ya.”

“Nope,” Armadillo decided. “You ain’t alright. What the  _ fuck _ did they do ta you, ‘Hattan?” 

“Nothin’!” Freckles insisted. “M’ _ fine _ , honest!”

“You’s bein’ all weird,” Armadillo said. 

“No I ain’t,” Freckles argued.

“How d’you feel?” Armadillo asked.

“Fantastic!” Freckles chirped.

“You said you was woozy five minutes ago,” Armadillo pointed out. Freckles ignored her.

“S’like I’m floatin’ on a cloud a rainbows,” she said. 

“That ain’t normal, babe,” Armadillo told her.

“Well it should be,” Freckles replied matter-of-factly. “What’s that on ya head?” 

“My hat?” Armadillo guessed. Freckles shook her head.

“Above that,” she said.

“There’s nothin’ above my hat,” Armadillo said.

“Yeah there is,” Freckles argued.

“What’s it look like, Frecks?” Armadillo asked gently.

“Dunno,” Freckles said. “That’s why I asked ya, dumbass.”

“Describe it, you ass,” Armadillo huffed.

“Can’t,” Freckles said. 

“Something’s wrong,” Armadillo said. “You ain’t you.”

“‘Course I am,” Freckles snorted. “Who else’d I be?” She reaches out to poke Armadillo’s cheek. “You’s pretty,” she declared. “Ya gotta girlfriend?” Armadillo’s heart sank.

“You,” She said. “Freckles,  _ you’s  _ my girlfriend.

“Mmm, no,” Freckles said. “Think I’d remember datin’ someone as cute as you.”

“What  _ do _ ya remember?” Armadillo asked.

“What does it matter?” Freckles asked.

“Frecks,  _ please _ ,” Armadillo begged. “What do you remember?”

“Why do you keep callin’ me that?” Freckles asked.

“What’s your name?” Armadillo asked.

“Dunno,” Freckles hummed. “What’s yours?”

“ _ Shit! _ ” Armadillo swore. “You don’t remember my name.” Freckles looked like she was concentrating.

“Aardvark?” she guessed. “Anaconda? Army ant?”

“No, baby,” Armadillo mumbled. “At least ya remembered it started with an A.”

“Where am I?” Freckles asked.

“Lodging,” Armadillo replied. “Ya home, Frecks.”

“Lodging?” Freckles repeated.

“Yeah,” Armadillo said. “The lodging house. Where you and all the other newsies live?”

“Newsies?” Freckles asked.

“ _ Shit! _ ” Armadillo swore again.

“Why d’you keep sayin’ that?” Freckles asked.

“Sayin’ what?” Armadillo replied.

“Shit,” Freckles hummed. “Ain’t a nice word.”

“How old’re you?” Armadillo asked, hiding her worry with a teasing tone.

“A million,” Freckles replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You serious?” Armadillo asked. “Be serious with me, ‘Hattan.”

“A million an’  _ one _ ,” Freckles said decisively.

“You tired, baby?” Armadillo asked.

“Nope!” Freckles replied. “Got  _ so _ much energy. Wanna do  _ everything. _ ” Armadillo sighed. “There’s a guy,” Freckles said.

“Yeah, there’s a lotta guys here,” Armadillo said absentmindedly. 

“Why?” Freckles demanded.

“They live here,” Armadillo told her.

“But  _ why? _ ” Freckles demanded again.

“Cuz they’s newsies, like you,” Armadillo said.

“Dunno what that is,” Freckles said dismissively. “Why’s he so small?”

“Who?” Armadillo asked.

“The guy!” Freckles said. 

“Which guy?” Armadillo asked. “There’re lots.”

“The one behind ya!” Freckles said, getting frustrated. “He’s smol an’ angry. Why’s he angry?” Armadillo glanced over and saw Spot standing by the stairs, arms crossed.

“That’s Spot,” She said. “Y’know, your friend? He’s a big teddy bear. He ain’t angry, just worried.”

“Listen. Anteater,” Freckles said, completely serious.

“My name ain’t anteater,” Armadillo said.

“Whatever,” Freckles replied, waving her hand dismissively. “Just listen, alright? I have never seen a man before  _ in my life _ .”

“You  _ live  _ with them,” Armadillo said. “You live with a dozen different boys, Frecks.”

“Never seen one  _ in my life! _ ” Freckles insisted. Armadillo swore again.

“What the  _ fuck _ did they do ta you?!” She wondered aloud. 

“Who?” Freckles asked.

“Damn DeLanceys,” Armadillo mumbled.

“Who’re they?” Freckles asked. “Also, watch your fuckin’ language.” Armadillo raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?” She asked. 

“Yes,” Freckles replied. “You’s gonna offend the children.”

“There ain’t no children here who haven’t heard it before,” Armadillo told her. “D’you remember who I am, even if ya don’t remember my name?”

“‘Course,” Freckles said. “You’s been talkin’ ta me for months. I’ve been here for months. On this…thing.”

“Ya mean the couch?” Armadillo asked.

“Is  _ that _ what it’s called?” Freckles asked. Armadillo nodded.

“We’ve been here for thirty minutes, Frecks,” She said gently. “Not months.” Specs handed her a mug of water.

“Get her to drink something,” he whispered. Armadillo nodded again. “Here, drink this,” she told Freckles, holding out the cup to her.

“Nope.  _ Months _ ,” Freckles insisted. “Been keepin’ track.”

“It ain’t even been an hour,” Armadillo said. “Drink this.”

“What is it?” Freckles asked suspiciously.

“Just water,” Armadillo said.

“Don’t like it,” Freckles declared. Armadillo sighed. This was going to be a battle.

“I know,” she said soothingly. “But ya need ta drink it.”

“Nope,” Freckles said.

“Please, babe,” Armadillo begged. Freckles ignored her.

“You’s pretty,” She said. “You gotta girlfriend?”

“Ya already asked me this,” Armadillo said. “You’s my girlfriend.”

“Ugh, I wish,” Freckles replied, grinning at Armadillo.

“Ya don’t gotta wish, baby,” Armadillo said.

“The angry man’s closer,” Freckles announced. “Why’s he closer?”

“Because he’s your friend an’ he’s worried ‘bout ya,” Armadillo replied.

“I don’t know him,” Freckles said. “I’ve never seen a man before in my life.”

“Yes you have,” Armadillo said. “How do ya feel?”

“Fantastic!” Freckles sing-songed. “I’s floatin, Airedale!”

“Armadillo,” Armadillo corrected. “My name’s Armadillo.”

“That’s a funny name,” Freckles said, giggling. “It’s cute. Like you. You gotta girlfriend?”

“That’s the third time you’ve asked that,” Armadillo sighed.

“No it ain’t!” Freckles said. 

“ _ You’s _ my girlfriend,” Armadillo told her.

“Nope,” Freckles replied. “Tell ‘im ta go away.”

“Alright, baby,” Armadillo said. She turned to Spot. “I think the DeLanceys drugged her,” She explained. “She’s real outta it. Doesn’t remember anyone, not even me. She’d like you ta leave.” Spot nodded. 

“M’sorry, Dil,” he said. “I hope she comes ‘round soon. I’ll check back in later.” He disappeared up the stairs, and Armadillo turned back to Freckles.

“D’you know who any a these people are?” She asked.

“Nooooooo,” Freckles hummed.

“ _ Shit! _ ” Armadillo said. 

“Language!” Freckles cried. “You! Will! Offend! The! Children!”

“What children?” Armadillo asked.

“Me!” Freckles replied indignantly.

“How old do you think you are?” Armadillo asked patiently.

“Million an’ one,” Freckles said. Armadillo sighed.

“You’s makin’ no sense, Frecks,” she said. 

“Why d’you keep callin’ me that?” Freckles asked.

“Your name is Freckles,” Armadillo said. Freckles wrinkled her nose.

“That’s weird,” She said. “That ain’t my name.”

“What’s ya name, then?” Armadillo asked.

“Thor,” Freckles said. Armadillo rolled her eyes.

“Ha ha,” she said. “Very funny.”

“That’s my  _ name _ , Armadillo!” Freckles insisted.

“No it ain’t, baby,” Armadillo replied calmly.

“Yes it is!” Freckles whined. “You’s bein’ rude.”

“Sorry,” Armadillo said.

“M’gonna smite ya,” Freckles grumbled.

“Sure,” Armadillo said. “Those freaking DeLanceys drugged you or somethin’.”

“No,” Freckles declared. “I do  _ not _ do drugs.”

“Didn’t say ya did,” Armadillo said.

“Yes ya did,” Freckles argued. “I’s gonna smite ya.”

“I said someone  _ else  _ drugged ya,” Armadillo clarified.

“Your hair’s real fluffy,” Freckles said, reaching out to touch Armadillo’s messy brown hair.

“So you’ve told me,” Armadillo said.

“No I haven’t,” Freckles said. 

“Drink some water, please, baby,” Armadillo said, trying to hand the cup to her girlfriend.

“No,” Freckles said, pushing it away. “Don’t like it.”

“Please?” Armadillo begged. “It’s good for ya.”

“No,” Freckles hummed, her hands still running through Armadillo’s hair.

“No pettin’ my hair unless ya drink,” Armadillo warned.

“There’s a man,” Freckles observed. “He’s gotta stick in his mouth. An’ he’s yellin’.”

“It’s a cigar,” Armadillo corrected. She could hear Race running his mouth in the background. “That’s Race. He’s our friend.”

“Why’s he yellin’?” Freckles asked. 

“That’s just what he does,” Armadillo explained.

“Armadillo,” Freckles said. “I have never met a man in my life.”

“Yes you have,” Armadillo said. “You just don’t remember. Please drink some water.”

“I have not!” Freckles insisted. “You are tryin’ ta trick me, an’ I will  _ not _ stand for it!”

“No I’m not!” Armadillo said. “Baby  _ please  _ just drink some water.”

“No!” Freckles said.

“Why not?” Armadillo asked, trying her hardest to stay calm.

“Because I  _ don’t like it _ !” Freckles yelled.

“I know ya don’t, baby,” Armadillo pleaded. “But ya gotta drink some water.”

“I do not!” Freckles huffed.

“What can I do ta get ya ta drink some water?” Armadillo asked desperately.

“Nothing,” Freckles said, crossing her arms in a way so reminiscent of both Spot and Jack that Armadillo almost laughed. “It’s gross, an’ I hate it.”

“I know it’s gross,” Armadillo said. “But  _ please _ , you need to drink some water.”

“No,” Freckles replied. “Got any beer? I like that.” Across the room, Race snorted.

“Think Al might have some,” he said. Armadillo glared at him. 

“Shut  _ up _ , Higgins!” She hissed. She turned back to Freckles. “I ain’t about ta give ya beer, Frecks,” She said. “The last thing ya need it somethin’ that’ll make ya more loopy.”

“Rude,” Freckles huffed.

“If you drink some water, I  _ might _ think about it,” Armadillo said.

“That ain’t no way ta treat a god,” Freckles said. 

“You ain’t a god,” Armadillo told her.

“I am too!” Freckles argued. 

“Fine,” Armadillo said. As long as Freckles was like this, there was no use arguing. “Sure. You’s a god. How d’you feel?”

“Pissed,” Freckles declared. “You ain’t very nice. An’ stick boy is too loud.”

“Higgins, go away,” Armadillo yelled over her shoulder. Race left reluctantly. “You ain’t ok,” Armadillo said, her thumb gently brushing Freckles’s cheek. Freckles swatted at Armadillo’s hand.

“I’m perfect,” she retorted. “I’m flawless. You’s funny.”

“Thank you?” Armadillo replied. Freckles giggled, reaching for Armadillo’s face.

“Squishy mortal,” she cooed. 

“You’s mortal too,” Armadillo pointed out, patiently letting Freckles play with her face.

“No I ain’t,” Freckles chirped. 

“Please stop squishin’ my face,” Armadillo said.

“Why?” Freckles asked.

“You can’t squish my face again until you have some water,” Armadillo said.

“Rude,” Freckles whined.

“Drink the water and you can squish my face ta your heart’s content,” Armadillo promised.

“Gimme the thing,” Freckles said, making grabby hands at Armadillo.

“The cup?” Armadillo asked.

“Yeah,” Freckles said.

“Here ya go,” Armadillo said, handing her the mug. Freckles took a sip of the clear liquid and made a face.

“Ew,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s nasty.”

“Thank you for drinkin’ some,” Armadillo said.

“I ain’t drinkin’ no more,” Freckles declared.

“Fine,” Armadillo conceded. “You wanna squish my face now?” 

“Yes,” Freckles said, reaching for Armadillo again. “Soft.”

“Be gentle, please,” Armadillo said. 

“Why are there so many  _ men _ ?” Freckles demanded, looking at a point over Armadillo’s head.

“Because they live here,” Armadillo replied.

“I have never met one before and  _ I don’t want to _ !” Freckles protested. “I’m  _ gay _ !” Armadillo barely managed to stifle a laugh. 

“Yeah, I know,” she said.

“The boy is hurt,” Freckles announced. 

“Who, Race?” Armadillo asked.

“No,” Freckles said. “Different boy. He has a different stick. Not loud. Quiet. Quiet boy is hurt. Who hurt him?” Armadillo glanced back. Crutchie was walking towards them.

“No one hurt him,” she explained. “He had polio.”

“Someone hurt him!” Freckles insisted. “He is hurt!”

“He had polio,” Armadillo repeated. “It’s a disease. It made him lose the use of his leg. It’s alright.” Crutchie crouched down by the couch and smiled at Freckles. Freckles smiled back.

“Sweet boy,” she cooed, patting Crutchie’s cheeks. “Soft.” 

“Stop petting poor Crutchie,” Armadillo said. 

“It’s alright,” Crutchie said. “I don’t mind. Race told me about what happened.” He handed Freckles a mug. Freckles took a sip of whatever was inside.

“This is really fucking good!” She said. “It’s like magic!”

“D’you wanna go up to your room away from the boys?” Armadillo asked.

“No,” Freckles said. “I am staying down here with quiet boy and his magic drink.”

“Magic drink?” Armadillo asked.

“Yes!” Freckles replied happily. “He gave it to me, an’ it’s magic!”

“It’s just water,” Armadillo said.

“No it ain’t!” Freckles argued. “It’s warm an’ delicious an’ magic!”

“Coffee?” Armadillo guessed.

“No,” Freckles said, making a face. “That’s worse than water.”

“Crutch, what’d ya give her?” Armadillo asked.

“Hot chocolate,” Crutchie replied.

“Where’d ya get hot chocolate?” Armadillo asked.

“Magic drink,” Freckles corrected. “An’ he summoned it from heaven.”

“Riiiiiight,” Armadillo said.

“He’s a powerful sorcerer, Armadillo,” Freckles said earnestly. “God had to hurt his leg so that quiet boy did not kill ‘im.”

“Sure,” Armadillo agreed. “Gimme your shoe.” Freckles’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Why?” She asked.

“It’s either your shoe or my hand,” Armadillo said.

“Doin’ what?” Freckles asked.

“Pick,” Armadillo said, dodging the question.

“Tell me what you’s gonna do!” Freckles yelled.

“Nope,” Armadillo said. “Don’t yell, baby.”

“Ass,” Freckles huffed. “You want my shoe, go get it!” She pulled off her boot and chucked it across the room. 

“Guess it’s my hand, then,” Armadillo said.

“I gave you my shoe!” Freckles protested.

“No you didn’t,” Armadillo said. “You threw it at Race. That ain’t givin’ it ta me, babe.”

“I did  _ not _ !” Freckles said. “Loud boy ain’t even here! Betcha a million bucks ya won’t go an’ get it.”

“We don’t have a million bucks,” Armadillo told her. 

“I do,” Freckles said. 

“Fine, I’ll go get the dang shoe,” Armadillo said. She got up, walking over to the stairs. 

“Quiet boy’s hair is nice,” Freckles said. “It’s fluffy, like yours.” 

“Stop pettin’ people’s hair,” Armadillo said.

“I ain’t pettin’, just lookin’,” Freckles protested.

“With ya hands,” Armadillo replied.

“No, dumbass,” Freckles said. “Ya don’t look with ya hands. I’s outta magic drink. I want more.”

“Nope,” Armadillo said. “I gotcha shoe.”

“I want more!” Freckles repeated. “Magic drink please, rude person.”

“Nope,” Armadillo said again. She took the cup from Freckles’s hand and slapped her as hard as she could across the face. Freckles looked shocked, betrayed, and deeply emotionally hurt.

“ _ Ow! _ ” She said. “You  _ betrayed _ me! I thought we was  _ friends _ ! I thought ya liked me, ya fuckin asshole!”

“I just needed ta try that,” Armadillo said. “Thought maybe smackin’ ya head’d knock whatever they drugged ya with out.”

“I am not drugged!” Freckles insisted. “God! Fucking! Damn! Boys!”

“What?” Armadillo asked. 

“There’s  _ another _ one!” Freckles cried. “A large beefcake!” Jack walked up to the couch, and Crutchie kissed him. Freckles stared. “Why’s quiet boy kissin’ him?” She asked. 

“They’s togetha,” Armadillo explained. “That’s Jack. Your leader.”

“No,” Freckles said. “I have no leader. I cannot be controlled or contained by _anyone._ _Especially_ not beefcake. Quiet boy trusts him?”

“Huh?” Armadillo asked, confused by the sudden change of topic.

“Beefcake,” Freckles said. “Quiet boy trusts him?”

“Yes,” Armadillo said. 

“Then  _ I  _ trust beefcake,” Freckles decided. “He can come over here. I want more magic drink. Please.”

“No more magic drink, ‘Hattan,” Armadillo told her.

“Why d’you keep callin’ me ‘Hattan?” Freckles asked. 

“Cuz ya live in ‘Hattan,” Armadillo replied. 

“Where’s that?” Freckles asked. 

“New York,” Armadillo said. “You ask a lotta questions.”

“An’ you ain’t very good at answerin’ ‘em.” Freckles replied. “More magic drink, please, rude person.”

“Magic drink?” Jack asked. 

“Hot chocolate,” Crutchie explained. “There’s a pot a it in the kitchen.”

“I’ll get her more,” Jack said, taking the mug from Freckles’s hand. 

“See, beefcake is nice,” Freckles said pointedly, looking at Armadillo. “He’s gettin’ me more. Thank you, Beefcake!”

“You’s welcome, kiddo,” Jack said, ruffling Freckles’s hair as he headed into the kitchen.

“Quiet boy is sweet,” Freckles declared. “I like him. He’s nice.

“Yeah, Crutchie’s real nice,” Armadillo agreed. 

“I wanna  _ do things _ ,” Freckles complained. 

“What  _ things _ ?” Armadillo asked. 

“ _ Everything _ ,” Freckles said. “Especially you.” Jack came in with three mugs of hot chocolate. He handed one to Freckles, one to Armadillo, and one to Crutchie. “Thank you, beefcake!” Freckles chirped. 

“You’s welcome, kiddo,” Jack replied. 

“Speakin’ a beefcakes, the short angry one’s back,” Freckles said. “Loud stick boy is bein’ held hostage by small angry beefcake.” she giggled. “That sounds like a headline. Armadillo, you should help loud stick boy.” Armadillo looked back. Spot and Race were indeed standing by the stairs, and Spot had a hand over Race’s mouth. 

“Spot, you can let Race go,” she said. 

“Armadillo?” Freckles said. 

“Yeah?” Armadillo replied. 

“You look sad,” Freckles said. She looked concerned. “Why?”

“M’just worried ‘bout ya,” Armadillo said. 

“Yeah, alright,” Freckles replied. “Butcha don’t look worried. Ya look  _ sad _ . Like ya lost someone.”

“It does kinda feel like I’ve lost you,” Armadillo admitted. 

“But I’s right here,” Freckles said. Armadillo allowed herself a small smile. 

“Not that kinda lost,” She said. “It’s like you ain’t all here mentally.”

“M’sorry,” Freckles said. 

“Why are you sorry?” Armadillo asked. “It ain’t your fault! Hey, Frecks, listen…” she hadn’t realized how much emotion had been bottled up inside her until the first tear rolled down her cheek. It was soon followed by another, and another, and Armadillo was sobbing. 

“You’s crying,” Freckles said, reaching out to wipe away Armadillo’s tears. 

“Yeah,” Armadillo said. “But it is  _ not _ your fault.”

“No, don’t cry,” Freckles said, her voice breaking. “Please, Armadillo. I’m sorry I don’t remember.”

“Kiss me,” Armadillo said. “Please. It might help, it might not, but please, kiss me.”

“It’ll make ya stop cryin’?” Freckles asked. 

“Might,” Armadillo replied. Freckles leaned in and kissed Armadillo, cupping her chin ever so gently. The kiss was soft and sweet, and Armadillo wished with all her heart that it could last forever, but all too soon, Freckles was pulling away. 

“You’s real good at kissin’,” Freckles said. “An’ even if I don’t remember anythin’ ‘bout us, I know I love you. Really, I do. You’s nice, an’ soft, an’ sweet, an’ perfect. An’ even if I don’t remember it happenin’, I know why I fell in love with ya.”

“D’you remember  _ anything _ ?” Armadillo asked desperately. “Even if it ain’t about me?” Freckles thought for a moment. 

“I just remember bits an’ pieces,” she said slowly.

“What are they?” Armadillo asked. 

“Baseball,” Thalia said. “An’ a pier. An’ death. Someone’s parents died. An’ a boy. Him. Spot. An’ I remember stealin’ bread an’ gettin’ caught. Gettin’ chased. I remember rain, an’ Manhattan. An’ papes. An’ a big fight. I remember Crutchie gettin’ dragged off, an’ Jack tryin’ ta fight ta save ‘im. An’ you’s there. We’s on a fire escape together.”

“You remember me?” Armadillo asked, her spirits rising.

“Just that one picture,” Freckles said. “Then it… then it’s blank.”

“Alright,” Armadillo said. “Alright. That’s somethin’. That’s  _ somethin’ _ .”

“M’sorry,” Freckles said. 

“Don’t be,” Armadillo said. “Do ya remember anything at all after that? About anyone?” Freckles thought really hard. 

“Brooklyn,” she said. “That’s what I call ya, right? Brooklyn?”

“Yeah,” Armadillo said, finally smiling. “That’s whatcha call me. Brooklyn.”


End file.
